


One Last Time

by nanjcsy



Series: The Unforgiven [15]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Childhood Memories, Escape, F/M, Identity Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, cannot believe i wrote something so fluffy, post traumatic stress syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 22:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1758507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanjcsy/pseuds/nanjcsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a moment of insanity, perhaps i ate something too sweet, I wrote out this version of Jeyne and Theon's escape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Last Time

A young girl was dancing by herself in the privacy of the trees.  The summer wind was playful, leaves and flowers spiraling around her.  Swirling and laughing at her own silly self, it took her a moment to discover she was no longer alone.  Nearby stood a handsome youth edging into manhood.  He had on that same arrogant grin he always had, it reminded her to never take him seriously.  _"Jeyne, are you practicing for the celebration next week?  I hope not, because that looked more like practicing to work at the local tavern."_   Within seconds, her temper kicked in and with her chin up, she sniped, _"That would be the only type of dancing you would know, Theon.  Hostages do not go to many banquets, do they?  Oh, wait, you are Ironborn, do you even know what a banquet is?  I assume your parties would be more gnawing on raw sea creatures and relieving yourself in the rushes."_ It made her feel much better when Theon turned bright red and stomped away.  Yet, she did worry, was her dancing that bad?

Jeyne's feet were sore and so was her mood.  The usually confident grace seemed to have fled ever since Theon's taunting.  Even though Sansa, Lady Cat and her own father assured her the dance steps were fine, she worried.  The weather was still nice and the view still pretty but Jeyne did not notice today, only her steps, counted, recounted mattered.  A voice she least wanted to hear cut through her counting, making her stumble.  _"By the time the dancing starts tonight, you will have naught but stumps."  "Leave me alone, Theon.  I came here for privacy!"_ Shaking his head, still with that grin, Theon came up to her, blocking her next step.  At the end of her endurance, Jeyne shoved at him, tears in her eyes that she was driven to Arya tactics.  Laughing, Theon barely moved, instead held out his hand.  _"I am sorry.  My joking the other day really upset you, I did not intend for you to go so far with it.  You are right, on Pyke we do not dance much.  Yet, I have lived here long enough to learn.  Take my hand and I will teach you to dance as an apology."_ Jeyne was still simmering, but something in his eyes told her he was being earnest this time.  So she took his strong hand and Jeyne swirled until she felt like a lady with her prince.

 

  A huddled girl who was flung violently into womanhood shivered, feeling as if she were encased in ice.  She could barely see the torch lights though the blinding white whipping about her.  As a child, Jeyne remembered seeing torch lights from a distance and believing they were fairies dancing.   How very far away that seemed now, how laughable to believe in anything happy, how stupid.  Here now, all her past and future have clashed together.  She was running from her childhood home, that turned nightmare.  Jeyne looked at the man next to her and muttered through lips numbed by cold, _"You were my dancing partner."_ Theon did not seem to hear and that was just as well.  Looking at the frail man, hobbling and lurching about her, this man would never dance again.  White hair floated over a gaunt skull and the eyes were wild with panic.  The grin was long gone and the bright white teeth destroyed as well.  There was not much left for this man to live for, broken, answering to Reek, worshiping a monster.  Jeyne had been told over and over by this new version of Theon to always remember her name. To obey, to never try and run.  Anytime she tried to use his real name, he would correct her and hear nothing else.  When she begged Theon to save her from Ramsay, he told her he was not a man.  That he couldn't help anyone.  So why the sudden change?  Why had Theon appeared at her door with these women? 

At first Jeyne thought it was a trick Ramsay forced Theon to play.  When she was convinced it was a true rescue, Jeyne was terrified but resolved to take her one chance.  She found herself muttering again, a habit hauntingly close to Reek rhyming.  _"By the time we run to the edge of the forest, you will have naught but stumps."_ Again there was no response, just harsh breathing, she could hear Theon's heart stutter in panic.  Thin hands with few fingers clutched at her peasant cloak.  Jeyne grabbed the thin arm with her oddly shaped fingers, broken by Ramsay countless times.  They began to run again, following the two washer women, then lurching to another halt.  A harsh voice called out asking who was there, and to Jeyne's horror, Theon stood.  He staggered forward and said, _"Theon Greyjoy."_

As Theon had spoken, the women killed the guards, but Jeyne only had eyes for Theon.  He looked at Jeyne, then simply said, _"I remember my name.  I want to die by that name.  Come, we must run faster, we are almost free, Jeyne."_ Hearing those two most secret names coming from Theon's lips was music that Jeyne wished she could dance to.  They ran, they hobbled, slipped, fell, scrambled then ran again.  How pathetic they must have looked and Jeyne did not care how graceless she seemed.  Grace was never useful here, about as useful as knowing how to dance.  Running, however, that was important, the most important thing in the whole world.  Jeyne pretending that she was running through dry leaves, over soft grass, not through feet of sticky snow. 

Something up ahead has gone wrong, Theon is whimpering like Reek and Jeyne wants to cry.  Lurching forward, Theon drags Jeyne past the two women fighting with soldiers.  Running, Jeyne is aware of arrows flying past  her and she screams.  Theon says in Reek's voice, _"Don't stop, keep going!  We must jump or they will catch us! Oh Gods, Ramsay will know we tried to run!"_   They reach the edge of the wall and Jeyne freezes to the stones _.  "No, it is too high!"_ Grabbing her shoulders and shaking her, Theon yells.  _"This is our one chance, Jeyne!  The only one we will ever have again."_ Jeyne mutters in the Lady Arya voice again.  _"Theon, it is so high, it will kill us.  We cannot jump and survive.  Ramsay has won.  We are so stupid, he is right."_

The sounds were louder now, crashing and yelling, it was almost over.  Theon suddenly stood directly in Jeyne's way and his lips twisted into the ghost of a grin.  _"We jump and we die then.  So we die as Jeyne and Theon.  Ramsay loses the game."_ Theon climbed onto the edge of the wall, teetered for a moment then balanced.  Reek's thin mangled body leaned down, and Theon offered his hand to Jeyne.  _"One last time, take my hand, Jeyne, please."_ So she did and she was on the edge, staring down at a world of snow.  _"Shut your eyes if you want to."_   Jeyne shut her eyes, holding tightly onto Reek's trembling hand.  She thought of a strong hand, warm and confident.  Theon taught her to dance so many years ago, now he will teach her to fly.

They jumped.

**Author's Note:**

> It is the nicest ending i think i have ever given Theon! Don't know why, either.


End file.
